Iron Cross: The Dartmouth Cobras #6 by Bianca Sommerland Read Free Book Online Page A

he could speak again and add being punched in the face to the possible outcome.
    “Silence, boy. You r attitude only proves my point.” He tightened his grip on Tyler’s throat as the young man tensed and let out a low, angry sound. It reminded Raif of the Alaskan Malamute he’d had as a boy. One of the hardest breeds to train, and Oluja had been intelligent and headstrong, ready to pull him off his feet at the slightest sign of weakness. But loyal and loving once she saw he was strong enough to lead her.
    He’d learned to exert his control as she’d grown, to set the boundaries and maintain them. He loosened his grip on Tyler’s throat as he recalled the first stages of training with his beautiful dog. Holding her down on her back to rub her belly and enforce his dominance as a positive thing.
    Raif smiled when Tyler didn’t try to move away. “ What you’re asking for is good. I appreciate that you know what you need.”
    Tyler stiffened. Mason met Raif’s eyes, then inclined hi s head and pulled Sloan aside. Cort smoothly took over the scene, using a flogger—which he had more experience with—rather than the whip. The interruption hadn’t done any real damage, so Raif was able to shift his focus away from everyone besides the young man whose throat worked against Raif’s arm as he swallowed hard.
    “ I don’t need you. This is weird, Raif.” A shallow laugh escaped Tyler, but he cut it off as though he knew he’d reached the end of his rope and didn’t need it to choke him to stop pulling. “You’re my friend. You can’t punish me.”
    “And our coach—he’s not your friend?” Raif knew very well friendship wasn’t the issue. Callahan had been an easy target. Tyler wanted to be punished in a quick, uncomplicated way, but it wouldn’t satisfy him. And if he’d gotten what he’d asked for from Callahan, his performance would suffer. Which would turn penance into regret.
    You will learn from this, Ty. Raif led Tyler back to the round sofa, a calming levelness settling over him even though he knew this boy would fight to keep him off-balance. Without even realizing he was doing so. But there was no reason to give him the opportunity.
    Tyler scuffed his sneakers on the hard wood floor beside the couch. “He’s not my friend, he’s—”
    “It doesn’t matter, Ty. I will be the one punishing you.” Raif gave Tyler a stiff smile. This still had to be Tyler’s decision—the boy didn’t belong to him. “If you’d rather I don’t, feel free to leave.”
    “I’m not leaving.” Tyler’s brow furrowed, as though he was unsure of his next move. “You can’t make me leave.”
    Raif inclined his head. “No, I can’t. But Mason will if this behavior continues and we both know that. Enough with the games. You’ve asked for the punishment, but I’m starting to wonder if that was simply a cry for attention.”
    “I don’t need—”
    “What do you need, Ty? Tell me that instead.”
    Tyler groaned and grabbed the bottom of his T-shirt. Jerking it off, he tossed it aside and glared at Raif. “Just fucking do it, all right? I don’t care what you use, just make sure I’ll be fit to play on Monday.”
    “Of course.” Raif folded his arms over his chest, his lips thinning as he observed the young man, looking for the slightest chink in his armor, a place where Raif could reach the submissive soul hidden behind layers of steel. For one who’d spent years in the lifestyle, the boy buried his natural urges rather deep.
    Unless they weren’t natural at all. Maybe Raif had read him all wrong. Tyler could be a man willing to do anything for the woman he loved. Even if that meant being a virtual doormat for her to trample on with her sharp stiletto boot heels.
    But the longer Raif watched him, the more nervous Tyler seemed to become. He licked his lips and went from glaring to staring at the floor. His fisted hands opened and his breaths turned quick and shallow.
    “Raif?” Tyler shifted